


Just One Damned Thing After Another

by Wadsworth



Category: Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: Bromance, Dutch needs friends, he's had a rough time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:16:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27992130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wadsworth/pseuds/Wadsworth
Summary: Dutch has had it rough, life hasn't been easy. Granted, a lot of the trouble he's found himself in has been of his own making, but now he's at the bottom of the barrel and the top looks an awful long way away. Happy endings don't happen in real life, but maybe sometimes the right person appears at the right time and makes things a little more bearable...
Comments: 26
Kudos: 19





	Just One Damned Thing After Another

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StrikeLikeACobraKai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrikeLikeACobraKai/gifts).



> Disclaimer - The characters and world of the 'Karate Kid' movies are not mine and I make no claim to own any of them. All copyright remains with the original creators.
> 
> ***
> 
> This happened because of a Tumblr post that grabbed me and wouldn't let go. I think it ran along the lines of 'characters who have never been loved, finding out that they are in fact loved unconditionally, are just the best'. StrikeLikeACobraKai added a note that it sounded like Dutch and then this story appeared in my head.
> 
> Now, I know there are rules to protect renters from being kicked out by their landlords and I'm not 100% sure this could actually happen, but suspend your disbelief, if you would be so kind, and indulge me.
> 
> ***

“Screw you, man! This is un-fucking-ethical bullshit.”

Dutch slammed the apartment door as he left it, then turned and planted his boot in the middle of it. Luckily, his boots were still filthy (who had time to clean things like boots?) and left a solid muddy print on the blue wood.

Fuck. Fuckety-shit-fuck. Fucking landlord and his ‘no criminal records’ horsecrap.

He made it to the end of the hall, then slumped against the wall. Homeless again. This sucked. He was twenty-six, when was he going to get his life back together? Why did the world insist on kicking him in the balls on a regular basis?

Okay, most of this was his own fault, he admitted. He needed to get a handle on his temper and should probably work on his decision-making skills as he almost always chose the path of most action and least thought. Letting his temper run the place would just make things like this happen over and over.

Back down the hall, his old apartment door opened and his ex-landlord peered out. “No point waiting around,” the scrawny little shit called, “I’m not changing my mind.”

Dutch glared, put down the bags he was holding and then threw the potted cactus that had until recently lived beside his bed. The plant pot exploded as it hit the doorframe beside the man’s face, showering him and the floor with soil, pot fragments and bits of cactus. Collateral damage, Shelly would understand, she’d been a good cactus.

With a squeak of terror, the landlord vanished back into the apartment. 

“Yeah, you better run, you little runt,” Dutch yelled. “And you can kiss my ass if you think I’m recommending this dump to anyone!”

Grabbing his bags, which contained the only things in the world he actually cared about, he stomped down the stairs. The bags bumped against his legs and a little knife twisted somewhere inside him. There wasn’t much there. Photos of his mom and dad, his old Cobra Kai gi, his karate belts, a pair of beaten up motorcycle boots which had no place on the road anymore but were too worn-in and comfortable to throw away and his blue jacket with the Cobra Kai patch on it. A few clothes and a sad amount of cash made up the rest. He hadn’t lived a quiet life but he had precious little to show for it.

Outside, fluffy white clouds floated across the late summer sky. The air was warm and heavy with the scent of the window-box roses the lady in the ground floor apartment spent her days cultivating. As days went, it was perfect. Dutch hated it. Why couldn’t it be gray and stormy to match his mood? A thunderstorm would suit him just then. 

In the parking lot, he set down his things and fished in his pockets for his bike keys. His trusty old dirt bike stood there, waiting patiently for their next adventure. She was dented and dirty; she deserved better. 

Dutch stared at the keys for a minute, then sat down beside the bike. A small pool of oil had leaked from it and now it seeped into his jeans but he didn’t move. Suddenly he was just too tired to care.

What the fuck. What was he doing with his life? No home, unable to hold a job for more than a couple of months and a record that made employers and landlords back away in horror. His parents would be real proud.

The sun warmed his shoulders but inside he was cold. What did he have left?

“Hey, why the long face?” a familiar voice called over the rumble of an engine.

Johnny? Dutch looked up. What would Johnny be doing there? It’d been a long time since they’d met. Not that it was Johnny’s fault though, a wry voice in his head reminded him. He’d been the one avoiding people after getting out of jail. He was the one who pushed his old friends away, who refused to even let them visit him when he was inside. He was the one with the destructive personality.

“Hey,” Johnny said again. “You okay?”

Dutch rubbed a hand over his hair and managed a tired smile. “Yeah. Living the dream.”

“Looks that way,” Johnny said, killing the car’s engine and getting out. “Bobby said you were here. Also said the guy who owns this place is a real jerk.”

“Bobby talks too much,” Dutch snorted.

Johnny ignored this and folded himself up on the asphalt beside Dutch. They sat in silence for a while, strained at first but then more companionable. 

“Kicked out, huh?” Johnny said quietly.

Dutch grunted.

“So where’re we going?”

“Huh?” Dutch said, confused.

Johnny smiled. “Just dump your stuff in the car and get your ass on the bike. You can sleep at my place until we figure this shit out.”

With that, he stood, grabbed the bags and headed for his Firebird. Dutch stayed where he was for a minute, then scrambled to his feet.

“You don’t have to, I’m okay,” he lied, staring at the car roof rather than at Johnny. If he looked him in the face, Johnny would see what a complete screw-up he was. As big as Dutch’s ego was, and he could admit that it was big, he didn’t think he could stand to see disappointment in Johnny’s eyes.

“Yeah, that’s bullshit,” Johnny said brusquely, sliding into the car. “I’m going, better keep up.”

He started the engine, then leaned across and grinned at Dutch through the open passenger window. 

“It’s okay, buddy. We got you. The guys are coming round later.”

“All of ‘em?”

“Yep,” Johnny nodded. “Get on the bike.”

Dutch pursed his lips, then nodded too. “Okay.” He tapped the car roof and summoned difficult words. “Thanks. I’m—” he trailed off and smiled ruefully. “Thanks, bro.”

Johnny flipped his sunglasses down and smirked, looking like the seventeen-year-old troublemaker Dutch remembered. “I’ll try not to lose you but you might not keep up on that thing.” He pointed at the bike and grimaced.

“Fuck you, man,” Dutch said, “she’s my baby and she’s better than this bucket o’bolts.”

“See you at home,” Johnny called, then vanished in a cloud of burning tyre smoke.

Dutch laughed as he pulled on his helmet. Johnny Lawrence, still an asshole. But a good asshole. 

The worry curled deep in his stomach unwound as he let out the clutch and rode out of the parking lot. Maybe he wasn’t alone after all. He could choose not to be. The guys were coming round later. It’d be good to see them. He’d abandoned his brothers for far too long. Time to be family again.

**Author's Note:**

> *insert shameless plea for feedback here*
> 
> This is my first foray into the KK fandom but I doubt very much it will be the last!
> 
> Thank you all for reading - I really do appreciate it.


End file.
